


Rude & Ginger

by a_quick_drink



Category: Cut & Run - Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux
Genre: Fluff, M/M, bi!Owen, blink and you'll miss the Nick/Owen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 19:00:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3948076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_quick_drink/pseuds/a_quick_drink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Owen borrows Nick to pose as his date for a job, he has no idea it'll bring long buried questions to the surface.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Makes a slight nod to my 'Guinness & Kimchi' ficlet.

“So tell me again why you needed my help?”

“I’ve already told you half a dozen times.”

“I know, but I love watching your face when you do.” Nick snickered. An odd heat crept up Owen’s neck and he winced. Nick pointed a finger at him, the corner of his mouth pulling into an obnoxious smirk. “Yeah, that.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Owen muttered under his breath as he climbed the marble staircase, Nick a step behind. This was going to be a long night. One he wasn’t going to live down. Then again, he knew it would be so much worse had he asked anyone else for help.

“I’m not going to need to fuck you to sell this cover, am I?”

The toe of Owen’s dress shoe caught on the top step. He pitched forward and stumbled, nearly face-planting into the polished floor before he felt Nick grab his arm. Owen quickly righted himself, smoothing the lapels of his jacket as if nothing untoward had happened. Cheeks burning, he turned his head and shot Nick a glare. “I hate you,” he hissed.

Nick slipped an arm around Owen’s waist and pulled him closer. “You don’t mean that, babe,” he teased.

Owen’s pulse suddenly spiked. He froze and clenched his jaw, attempting to distract himself from the odd reaction. What the hell? This was just Irish, for chrissakes–his friend. His brother-in-arms. Nothing more. Owen tried to escape, but Nick tugged him back.

“You need to relax,” Nick said. “People are already watching.” It was the same calm, level tone Owen had heard in his ear countless times over the years; the same voice that had guided him and steadied his hands when heaven or hell were only a trigger-pull away. Nick’s voice should have eased his nerves, but it was doing nothing tonight.

Before Owen completely regained his composure, his boss appeared. On the man’s arm was his stunning wife, Melissa, her dark brown hair pinned back to highlight the diamond earrings he had no doubt cost more than a month of his pay. A black wrap dress hugged her subtle curves, the dress pinned at the waist with a crystalline piece that matched the earrings. The effect was a tastefully svelte silhouette that masked her penchant for sleeping with anything that breathed.

Introductions were made all around before they settled into comfortable small talk. Her razor sharp wit and intelligence should have had him hanging from her every honeyed word, but he was having difficulty appreciating her charms.

For one, she was a known philanderer, which is why her husband only hired gay security members. He preferred keeping events like this casual, and his security discreet, so he often encouraged those on his payroll to bring a date. For all intents and purposes, he was a genuinely good person.

But two, his interest in one night stands had waned over the past couple of years. Lately, he’d been thinking about forever, but he was no longer sure who he wanted that with. And that was the crux of the matter. Most of his life had been spent denying an urge he never quite understood nor had he tried. And it had been easy enough to avoid until his friends had revealed similar proclivities. That had shaken something loose in his own mind. He felt like a complete ass for how he’d reacted at the time, but he now realized it had been him misplacing his anger and frustration with his own internal struggle.

A waiter passed by their group and Melissa snagged two glasses of champagne from the tray, offering them each a glass. “So how did you two meet?” she asked sweetly. Her gaze raked over Nick and then Owen.

When Owen hesitated a moment too long, Nick answered. “We were in the Marines together.”

“That must have been difficult.”

“Well, we didn’t know at first. Caught us by surprise years later.” Nick turned and offered him a smile, mischief sparking in his green eyes. “Isn’t that right, babe?”

Owen refrained from glaring at his friend and simply nodded.

They chatted amiably for a little while longer before Melissa finally excused herself and drug her husband away. Probably off to examine the rest of her options for future bed mates, Owen thought with a hint of disgust.

“It’s her.” Nick stuffed his hand in his pocket and sipped at the drink in his opposite hand. His gaze followed her across the cavernous room as the couple met with another group of guests.

“What? How do you know?”

“You said it had to be an inside job. Who better than someone who only cares for her husband’s money? Get someone to siphon it off and misdirect a few transactions, pay them for their time, and then disappear,” he said with a shrug. “Happens all the time.”

Owen hummed and stared at her over the rim of his glass. “Do you seriously believe she’s doing all of this, though?”

“Of course not. People like her always hire someone. I’m guessing the corporate files are going to whoever that is in exchange for getting her the money.” Nick threw him another smirk. “And why am I doing your job for you? I thought all I had to do was drink and be pretty.”

Owen cocked an eyebrow. “You’re very pretty, Irish,” he deadpanned. “I’ll be sure to show you just how much I appreciate your help when we get home.” A peculiar thought bubbled to the surface of his mind. What was it like to take another man home? He had to admit he was slightly curious.

Owen glanced around the room. There were plenty of men milling about, but none that caught his eye. Why did he have these inexplicable feelings if he couldn’t find anyone here? Although maybe it was just this group. Or maybe it was all in his mind. He didn’t realize he’d fallen into a contemplative daze until Nick snapped his fingers in front of his face.

“I know this is really fucking awkward, but you need to focus,” Nick said as he turned and started to walk away. His tone was surprisingly understanding, devoid of the hint of amusement Owen had come to expect.

Owen trailed after him for awhile, pointing out everyone he knew in the crowd. If their suspicions were correct, any one of these people could be Melissa’s accomplice. Once Nick was up to speed, they separated. He left Nick with the guests while he crept around upstairs. While Melissa was a logical culprit, they needed solid proof before her husband would ever believe him.

As he wondered where to find that proof, he nudged open a door that led to an office. In the darkness he made out the large desk, on top of which was an open laptop. He moved toward the desk but paused when he felt his coat pocket vibrate. Owen pulled the phone from his pocket and hastily swiped it open, tapping the screen to open the text message from Nick.

_Get down here now._

Owen bit back a curse as he pocketed the phone. This was the best–and only–chance he had for getting proof, but there was no time to load the software contained on the USB drive in his pocket. He would have to find another way to get the incriminating evidence later.

Resigned to momentary defeat, Owen poked his head out the door. A light was on further down the hallway but no one emerged from the room. This entire level was silent as far as he could tell, save for the sounds of the party filtering up from below. He hurried down the stairs to find Nick waiting at the bottom, his eyes flicking nervously between Owen and the upper level.

“What’s wrong?” Owen asked quietly.

Nick grabbed him by the arm and steered him away from the base of the stairs. “She followed you upstairs.” He glanced upward again, eyes darkening, and pushed Owen against the nearby wall. He mouthed a silent apology and leaned in.

“What the–” Before Owen could get the words out Nick’s lips were pressed against his in a chaste kiss. His eyes widened in surprise. Holy shit, he was kissing another guy. And not just any guy–Nick. He started shoving Nick away, but ceased when he heard heels clicking down the stairs. 

Owen let his eyes fall shut and focused on the warring emotions in his mind. This was so very wrong. But, Jesus, it felt so…good. He imagined someone else in Nick’s place, someone with dark hair and impossibly blue eyes, who smelled like warm spices rather than ocean. Since when did he have a type?

“Gentlemen.” Melissa’s cold greeting broke them apart. She paused on the last step and eyed them suspiciously, her hand resting on the carved finial at the end of the railing. “You should be in the other room enjoying the party." 

"We were just heading back.” Nick flashed her a warm smile, although it didn’t seem to thaw her mood any. Had the patented O'Flaherty charm just failed? That had to be a first. Nick took Owen’s hand and gently tugged him away from the wall. “He just needed a break,” Nick continued smoothly. “Big events like this can be a bit overwhelming.”

Owen nodded and offered her a sheepish smile.

Melissa narrowed her eyes and cast them one more disapproving look before walking past without another word.

Once she was gone, Nick dropped his hand and quickly stepped away as if Owen were on fire. He cleared his throat. “Sorry about that.” He straightened his jacket and kept his gaze trained on anything but Owen.

“It’s, uh, it’s okay.” Owen rubbed the back of his neck and stared at the floor. Another blush threatened as he remembered the warm press of lips and hard muscle, things he was beginning to wonder why he’d relegated to only dreams. Owen swallowed hard. “Hey, Irish?”

“Yeah?”

“How did you know you were, um…” Owen trailed off, gesturing at the air. Throat dry as sandpaper, the word he struggled with came out as a rasp. “Bi?”

“Oh God,” Nick groaned. “Not you too.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. After a moment, Nick finally huffed a sigh and turned away, motioning for Owen to follow. “C'mon, Ozone, guess you’re old enough for the Talk.”

Owen scrubbed his face with a hand. While he was thankful Nick seemed to be handling this well, he still kind of wanted to punch him.

——

“You’re kidding,” Kelly said, deadpan.

Owen stuffed his hands in his pockets and tried to avoid Kelly’s stare. Guilt gnawed at him, although for what he wasn’t sure. He’d enjoyed the innocent kiss, much to his surprise, but not because of who it had been with. Even Kelly had waved it off with a laugh. No, he felt like crap for how well his friends were handling the news when he hadn’t been able to afford the same courtesy.

A huge grin suddenly spread across Kelly’s face as he held out a fist. “Welcome to the club.”

They bumped fists and Owen blinked in surprise. “What club?”

“Gay for Irish,” Kelly said with a cheeky grin.

Owen’s jaw dropped. “I… That’s not what it is.” And there was that goddamned flush again. He was sure he’d blushed more tonight than he had most of his life. “I’m not really sure what it is.” 

“Well, if you ever need to borrow Nick to–”

“No!” Owen and Nick shouted in unison.


	2. Chapter 2

“I can’t do it.” Owen switched the phone to his other ear, cradling the device with his shoulder as he rummaged through his closet.

“Then don’t go.” Nick’s voice sounded distant, like he had the phone on speaker while doing something else. “You’ve only seen him twice, so it’s not like anybody’s going to get hurt over it.”

Owen growled in frustration. Not the answer he wanted to hear. Then again, maybe it was exactly what he needed to hear. Despite months of casual meetings with both men and women, he still felt confused as all hell–probably would for some time–but his mind was made up. Something about JD had immediately struck a chord with him and he was determined to power through the awkwardness and see where this went. Still felt like he was in way over his head, though. 

There was rustling on the other end of the line. He heard Nick say, “Talk him down, Doc,” before presumably handing the phone to Kelly.

“Hey, bud,” Kelly greeted, a hint of laughter in his voice. “What’s wrong?”

After a moment of deliberation, Owen finally pulled a blue-striped button-up shirt from the closet. What was his problem anyway? It was just dinner with some other guy–he could handle that. A guy who made his body react in ways no one else had. Owen tossed the shirt on the bed and rubbed his neck. “It’s the third date. I don’t know what I’m supposed to, you know, do.”

Silence stretched between them before Kelly finally answered. “You’re not supposed to do anything other than eat and talk and see where things go. Be honest with him. It’s no different than being with a woman.” Another pause. “Nobody’s expecting you to put out,” he added with a snort.

Someone barked a laugh, and Owen pursed his lips. “Seriously,” he said, deadpan, “hate you both.”

The response was another round of laughter.

Nick piped up from the background “You’ll be fine,” he reassured. “Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“There’s something you won’t do?” Owen asked innocently.

Kelly cackled in the background.

His friends wished him luck and Owen ended the call. A slow smile curved his lips as his attention strayed to the shirt on the bed. He wasn’t afraid of being with a guy.

He was afraid of messing this up.

 

* * *

 

Dinner went well. Owen had chosen an upscale Thai restaurant he frequented with clients from work. The curries were to die for, and the low lighting and tranquil water features adorning the walls made it perfect for impressing a date. He loved the place, but had yet to share this gem with anyone else.

JD regaled him with stories of his travels, his gestures animated and his smile infectious as he recalled all the spectacular locations he’d experienced. While Owen had been fortunate to travel the world, it was rarely with the wonder of someone who had the time to appreciate the view. And that was assuming there was anything worth seeing. He’d spent too much time in the Middle East, where the view was little more than mountains of dirt, sand, and more dirt.

They swapped stories of their cultural faux pas, Owen’s side aching from laughter as JD told his winning tale of offending an African warlord. When they played the game of “Who’s been shot at the most?” Owen won, although not by much. JD’s past proved as colorful and exhilarating as his present, and somewhere between dessert and coffee Owen found himself falling for another man.

“How much longer are you staying in the city?” Owen asked as he drove them back across town to the hotel JD had been living out of for the past couple of weeks.

“I leave tomorrow.” The earlier exuberance in JD’s voice waned. “Plans changed and I need to be in Rio on Monday.”

Owen’s heart sank as he parked and turned the car off. He’d agreed to meet JD as part of his on-going experiment to figure himself out; just a quick drink, a little socializing, and then JD would be off to South America for a month. It would have been perfect except he hadn’t planned on that brief first meeting leading to a second, and then a third. He wanted a fourth, and he got the impression the feeling was mutual.

Silent minutes stretched between them as they grasped for words. JD finally spoke. “Would you want to join me for awhile?” he asked, jerking a thumb at the hotel behind them.

Blood pounded in Owen’s ears. Oh God, he was definitely not ready for that. “I’d like to but, um–”

“Just a drink!” JD quickly amended. “Just… Talk some more before I have to leave.” He turned and offered Owen a sheepish smile.

Owen returned the smile and nodded. “I–I could do that.”

Once in JD’s room, Owen found it nearly impossible to relax despite his seat in the corner of the room while JD occupied the bed. A couple of beers and the warm sound of JD’s laughter had loosened him up, but panic lingered at the edge of his mind. Had he misinterpreted the invitation? What was the protocol in this kind of situation?

While Owen nursed the beer in his hand, he watched JD fidget on the bed, his bottle switching hands more times than Owen could count. It seemed like JD wanted to ask a question but couldn’t find the words or the courage.

JD finally set the bottle aside on the nightstand. Face set with determination, he stood and walked over to where Owen sat on the small armchair. Darkened eyes fixed him in place as JD leaned over and planted both hands on either side of Owen’s head. Owen stared back at him, wary, his heart drumming against his ribs.

His breath hitched as their lips met in a tentative kiss. The scent of soap and cloves met his nose, enveloping him, tickling his senses. Nothing like the cloying perfumes that turned his stomach. JD’s kisses were sweet but firm, requesting nothing more than Owen’s attention as they coaxed his into play.

Owen returned the kiss, hesitant. JD’s lips parted slightly under his, inviting him to explore. His tongue swept across Owen’s lips. He tasted like liquor and a lingering sweetness of ripe pineapple. A shiver rolled up Owen’s spine and his brain shorted. He froze.

Getting kissed by Nick had been odd to say the least, although not unpleasant as long as he imagined it was anyone else. He had zero interest in whatever the hell the “Irish Special” was. The kiss had been brief and unexpected and he’d had little time to put much thought into that moment. But this was someone different, someone he was allowed to–wanted to–kiss back, and wasn’t that a peculiar thought?

When Owen still hadn’t moved, JD nipped at his lower lip and pulled away. He drew a shaky breath as he pressed their foreheads together. “Please tell me this is okay,” he murmured.

Words failed him at first, but Owen managed a nod. Kissing was well within his realm of understanding. It was everything else he was unsure of.

JD lowered himself onto Owen’s lap, cautious, as though he’d be shoved away any minute. He was certainly heavier than anyone else who’d sat on his lap, but the weight was oddly comforting. Owen rested his hands on the other man’s hips.

A slow smile returned to JD’s face as his eyes lit with an idea. “Come with me.”

“What?”

“To Rio. I can always use another gun and we can spend more time together.”

Owen shook his head. “I can’t,” he said. It would no doubt be an amazing trip, but there was no way he could take off that much time on such short notice. Disappointment creased JD’s brow, and Owen gave him a reassuring pat on the hip. “I can’t go down there for a full month, but a week would be okay.”

JD gave a rueful smile. “I never know where I’ll be from day to day.”

“Okay, then Plan B,” Owen said easily. “We can talk over Skype and email until you come back to the States.”

“You’d wait that long?”

“Of course.”

Actually, that was probably a better idea anyway. While JD seemed thankfully understanding about his inexperience, he needed processing time. No woman had ever blown into his life like a hurricane, intent on sweeping him up and carrying him off to adventure. If one had, he knew he wouldn’t be single. But finding what he wanted in an intelligent, handsome man? He wasn’t sure what to do with that.

JD wriggled suggestively in his lap, the friction erasing any doubt in Owen’s mind that there was physical attraction between them. A sly smile tugged at JD’s lips. “You could keep me company tonight,” he teased, plucking at a button on Owen’s shirt.

Owen hummed. “How about I meet you for breakfast instead?”

“Fine,” JD drawled in mock frustration.

Owen slid his hands under JD’s thighs and hefted him up. Surprised by the sudden movement, JD threw his arms around Owen’s neck. He set JD on the bed and pulled away, pausing when JD yanked him back down for a peck on the lips. Hopeful blue eyes stared up at him. “Pick you up at nine?” Owen asked.

JD nodded and released him.

“It’s a date.”


	3. Chapter 3

He could count the number of times he’d cut and run on one hand, and none of those instances had anything to do with combat. In fact, his instinct was to run toward gunfire. Bullets he could deal with. Awkward social situations, not so much. And as he stared into the windows of the bustling pub, eyes settling on the lone man seated at a table for two, he almost ran.

Owen drew an uneasy breath and stepped away from the door, feigning interest in the menu posted on a nearby wall.

Halfway through the extensive craft beer list, his eyes glazed over. This was ridiculous. He was a grown man who’d faced more dire situations than meeting someone for drinks. Hell, he wasn’t even alone since both Nick and Kelly had agreed to look out for him between taking care of their pub.

Casting another glance at the figure inside, Owen steeled himself and finally reached for the door handle. He could do this–no–he needed to do this.

As he stepped inside, though, the doubts crept back into his mind with the realization escape was now that much more difficult.

He glanced toward the bar and spotted Kelly pulling beers. His friend looked up at that moment and met his eyes, all smiles as he gave a quick wave. Owen returned the gesture.

Scratch that–escape was now impossible.

A server glanced over, eyes raking over him before she threw a wink over her shoulder as she turned away.

His eyes tracked her across the room to another table, focused on the sway of her hips and dark ponytail bobbing behind her with each step. Cute, but he had zero interest in pursuing the invitation. Not that he didn’t appreciate the view or the attention, but because the odd little flutter in his chest reminded him why he was here.

Owen bit his lip against a smile and forced himself into action. As he walked the length of the bar counter to the table in the corner, he swore he felt Kelly’s eyes following him.

At the table, Ty sat with his head down while staring at the screen of his phone, one hand occasionally tapping at the device, the other wrapped around a pint glass of Guinness. He lifted the glass to his lips and paused when he spotted Owen. Ty’s face lit up as he set the glass down and hopped out of his chair, drink forgotten.

Owen offered a hand, but instead found himself pulled into a hug. Awkwardness still lingered between them despite the gesture, although he assumed that issue was more his than Ty’s. He was the one who had wronged his friend, after all, and it still felt like he hadn’t properly apologized. Or maybe that was just his guilt talking.

Ty gave Owen’s back another slap before he pulled away and took his seat. “Wasn’t sure you would be able to make it.”

A smile tugged at Owen’s lips as he sat down across from Ty. “Do you really think I would miss your birthday?”

“Don’t know. You’ve been pretty quiet lately.” Ty tilted his head and pouted, struggling to keep a straight face. “You know I worry about you.”

Owen snorted and rolled his eyes. “I know, mom. I’m sorry.”

The flirty server appeared, interrupting their snickering for drink orders. Ty waved her off with a smile. The woman barely acknowledged him, and Owen suspected she’d already noticed the silver band on Ty’s left hand. He hoped she hadn’t traded another server for the table because she would find nothing but disappointment here.

Despite the low-cut top that left little to the imagination, Owen kept his eyes locked on her face. Warm brown eyes stared back at him, but they were hardly competition for the dusky blue ones in his dreams. He ordered an oatmeal stout from memory and looked back to Ty as the server walked away.

Conversation flowed easily between them, but Owen’s mind lingered elsewhere. How should he approach the topic that had brought him here tonight? How much did Ty even know? Considering Kelly’s big mouth and candid personality, chances were good Ty knew something. He traced the rim of his glass with a finger.

“So how did that job I wasn’t allowed to help with turn out?” Ty asked. “I can’t believe you asked Irish to help.”

Owen chuckled. “You weren’t even available that weekend.”

“I know,” Ty said with a hint of a whine, “but retirement’s so boring. I kinda miss getting shot at.”

“We didn’t get shot at. Just a boring party, some sneaking around, and a weird kiss from Irish.”

Aside from that kiss it had been an uneventful evening. And while it had taken a bit of work after the fact, he got the data. Nick had been right, and with Melissa locked away, Owen had earned himself quite a nice promotion. 

The jovial mood faded. “He what?” Ty growled. Apparently Kelly could keep a secret. Who knew? “That bastard!” Ty thunked his glass down on the table, drawing the attention of those seated around them. “If he hurt Doc–” Ty started out of his seat.

Owen threw his hands up and motioned for Ty to sit down. He had exactly three seconds max to calm Ty before the man did something stupid. Failing that, they would need Kelly’s help. “Everything’s okay, Ty. Nothing happened.” He kept his voice level and calm with the hope it would soothe Ty, but Ty was having none of it. One of his brothers had been wronged and he’d be damned if he didn’t do something to fix it.

“What do you mean ‘nothing happened’?” Ty asked, voice pitching higher as he wound up for a rant. “He fucking kissed you when he’s already got Doc. How is that nothing?”

Heads were definitely turning now, and Owen flushed under the unwanted attention. “Would you shut up for a minute and let me explain?” he hissed. Ty huffed in response, and when it was clear the best of the scene was over, those around them returned to their own business. “It was a split-second decision to sell the cover, nothing else. We didn’t enjoy it and Doc made fun of us when we got back. That’s it.”

Ty leaned forward, hazel eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What aren’t you telling me, Ozone?” Warning tinged his words.

Owen licked his lips. “It…it answered some questions I’ve had for a long time.” Ty didn’t respond, so he continued. May as well get this over with. “I’m bi,” he blurted out.

Ty blinked rapidly, as though something had caught in his eye. "What?” he asked, disbelieving. “How?” He cocked his head to the side like a dog hearing a high-pitched noise. After a moment, a sly smile quirked his lips, as though he’d just caught on to the joke, and he burst into laughter.

Embarrassed, Owen looked away. Ty’s reaction stung, but it could have been worse; could have been the scene he’d made.

Ty’s admission had been a bitter pill to swallow, mostly because of the deceit. Still, he liked to believe he would have handled it better had it also not made him question things about himself. He’d spend a lot of years denying those feelings–denying himself–until he’d found a comfort zone he thought he could live with. But the walls he’d built around his heart were fragile, and that admission was all it took to send them tumbling down.

Feeling a hand on his wrist, he looked back to Ty.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Ty asked. He was studying Owen again, but his expression was softer now, understanding. “Are you okay with that?”

Owen nodded. After the initial shock had worn off, okay wasn’t exactly the word he would have used to describe his feelings at the time. He was frightened and confused more than anything.

And free.

He admitted as much to Ty, and felt the crushing weight lift from his shoulders with every word, bit by tiny bit. He was grateful Ty had reacted so well; grateful when Ty assured him there were no hard feelings between them. They’d both been dumb assholes, after all, and they deserved each other.

Owen suddenly felt arms wrap around his shoulders, hugging him from behind. “Hey, Ty,” Kelly chirped. “Everything okay over here?”

Ty met Owen’s eyes and smiled. “Yeah.” Then he looked over Owen’s shoulder at Kelly. “So why didn’t you tell me Irish is the kiss of gay? You’re holding out on me, man.”

Kelly snorted. “Thought that was pretty obvious.” He gave Owen a squeeze. “Did Ozone tell you he has a boyfriend?”

“Kelly!” Owen spluttered, nearly choking on his mouthful of beer. It felt like his ears were on fire. “He’s not…we aren’t…I don’t know…” His hands flew through the air in gestures as confused as his emotions. When his friends started laughing, he gave up.

There was definitely something between himself and JD, although what he couldn’t say. That was a discussion for another time, after JD returned from South America.

He had to admit he kind of liked the sound of boyfriend, though…


	4. Chapter 4

Owen nearly sprinted across his penthouse when the doorbell rang, his socked feet slipping and sliding on the polished hardwood floors. He nearly skidded into a wall rounding the corner of the entryway, catching himself at the last second.

After more than a month since leaving for Brazil, JD was finally back. His last couple of messages had been brief, but one thing he made absolutely clear was that he had changed his return flight to San Francisco instead of going home to Los Angeles.

The news had turned Owen into a giddy schoolboy despite his best efforts at maintaining some semblance of decorum. But, goddamn, if his heart didn’t skip a beat every time he thought about JD missing him that much. Considering they had been apart longer than they had been together, it somewhat astonished him they were still together. He would not have waited for anyone else.

Owen raked an unsteady hand through his hair and smoothed the front of his dress shirt. He drew a deep breath, put on his best smile, and opened the door. “Hey, stranger.”

JD smiled back at him with that easy curl to his lips that made Owen’s heart stutter. “Did you miss me?” he purred, cautiously winding his arms around Owen’s neck.

“I did,” Owen murmured. He brushed their lips together in a tentative kiss. Anticipation shivered through his body, a delicious little thrill that settled deep in his belly, heavy and warm and unlike anything he’d ever felt.

JD pressed his nose against Owen’s cheek. “Missed you, too.”

Owen pulled JD into the foyer before kicking the door shut. Another peck and then JD released him. He took a few hesitant steps forward and then froze, whistling under his breath. “This is yours?” JD asked, blue eyes widened in disbelief.

Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, Owen gave a self-conscious shrug. When women had commented on the place in the past, he typically felt a swell of cocky pride as they walked the space, oohing and aahing over the view and how expensive everything must be. And likely calculating how much he could spend on them. He’d never spared any thought for those moments. But when JD turned and eyed the wall of black and white photos Owen had taken, he felt an inkling of something unidentifiable about this moment along with the usual pride.

Moving slowly between the photos, JD studied each one as carefully as if they were in a professional gallery, his eyes passing over the furnishings that surrounded the photos. “These are amazing,” he breathed as he stared at a photo of a tea plantation in the foothills of Japan, the distant hills shrouded in mist as the sun rose. He turned to Owen and asked, “Did you take them?”

Owen smiled and nodded. There were many more framed photos scattered throughout the place–hundreds more loose photos in carefully organized albums on the bookshelves–and yet no one he’d brought here had ever given them more than a passing glance.

But JD was different in more than just one obvious way. He obviously couldn’t care less about the trappings of modern comfort and luxury, not surprising considering how he spent much of his life sleeping on the ground all over the world and dining on exotic night market food. Luxury had no value to a man whose life was already so rich.

Owen started to turn away but paused when he noticed JD move to the floating bookshelves on a far wall.

“I’ve seen these before,” JD mused. “At Nick’s, right?”

“Yeah, we all have copies.” Owen didn’t need to see the photos to know which ones JD was referring to. They were the same photos Owen often lingered over whenever he felt lost or lonely or out of touch with the world he now occupied; the same photos he could visualize with his eyes closed.

JD finally tore his gaze away and laughed, the deep sound igniting a warmth in Owen’s gut. He rubbed the back of his neck, smiling. “Sorry. Can’t resist travel photos.” JD glanced around again, eyes settling on the kitchen for a moment before he looked at Owen. “Mind if I clean up before dinner? I can still smell Rio on myself.” He scrunched his nose in disgust, earning a snort from Owen.

Owen led JD through the spacious living area and into the master bedroom, belatedly realizing the implication though his intentions were nothing but innocent. Oh well, too late now. “You can, um, shower if you need to,” he said with a gesture toward the bathroom. “There’s fresh towels on the shelf.” He scurried out of the room before JD could respond.

In the kitchen, Owen focused his nervous energy on finishing dinner. What the hell had he been thinking? He’d welcomed JD into his home as if he were family or friend, although he supposed that wasn’t a bad thing. Clearly he was comfortable with the other man in a way that rarely happened between him and potential lovers.

_Lovers?_

Where the hell had that come from? They’d sent dozens of messages back and forth while JD was gone, but this was only the fifth time being together in person. Wasn’t it too soon for that kind of thought? And what did JD think of…them?

Owen picked up a bunch of fresh basil leaves and rolled them together, willing his mind silent as he sliced away. Jesus, could that have been a more obvious invitation for sex? _Yeah, sure, clean yourself up and then we’ll bang, okay?_ He groaned and pushed the pile of herb ribbons aside. Was he even ready for _that_?

After some awkward conversations with Kelly that he _really_ didn’t ever want to think about again, he’d spent the weeks apart from JD researching. But with roughly two decades of deeply ingrained habits, beliefs, and denial working against him, he still wasn’t sure there was enough porn in the world to fix twenty some years of inhibitions in only weeks.

But he was willing to try. He trusted JD and, really, how much different could sex be with another man when the principle was the same? It would just be a lot of hard muscle instead of soft curves, and the scrape of stubble, and– Owen bit his lip against a whimper.

His thoughts were nearly in check when JD appeared, clean-shaven and dressed in a worn t-shirt and jeans, the soft fabrics hugging his body. He looked so comfortable and relaxed, and Owen felt the back of his neck flush as he found himself wondering what was hidden beneath those clothes.

A smile tugged at JD’s lips as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “So, Italian, huh?”

“Hope that’s okay.”

JD fixed Owen with those brilliant blue eyes of his. “It’s perfect.”

Owen divided the pasta between two plates and finished each with a garnish of fresh basil. The extent of his cooking abilities was burning water, so he’d instead ordered dinner rather than risk burning his place down trying to make something on his own. He couldn’t cook to save his life, but he could reheat takeout like a pro.

He uncorked a bottle of wine and passed the bottle and a pair of glasses to JD, who took them to the table and filled the glasses. Owen followed with the plates of food. “So tell me about Rio,” he said, setting the plates down as he took the seat opposite JD.

They chattered away over dinner, eventually retiring to the couch to finish the wine. No sense letting a bottle this good go to waste. More nights should be spent like this, Owen mused, current company included.

Leaning forward, Owen set his emptied glass on the coffee table and glanced back at JD. The room had darkened considerably since JD arrived, the warm glow of city lights now casting soft shadows across his face. JD stared back at him, lips curled upward in a lazy, contented smile that Owen hoped had as much to do with himself as it did the wine.

Owen sat back, and JD shifted slightly, scooting closer. Shivers rolled up Owen’s spine as JD’s lips ghosted over his neck. He tipped his head to the side, and JD pressed a kiss to his jaw. When a soft moan escaped his lips, JD took a playful nip, soothing the sting with another kiss.

Lightning zinged through Owen’s body. “Jay,” he breathed. Wherever this led, he could handle it; wanted it. Oh God, how he wanted it. None of the videos he’d watched, none of the dreams compared to the reality of JD’s touch, lips and fingertips tentatively exploring.

JD quickly pulled away. “Too much?” he asked, worry furrowing his brows. Bottom lip held between his teeth, he looked like a puppy waiting to get hit with a rolled up newspaper. Owen’s heart squeezed. He never wanted to be responsible for that look.

Wrapping a hand around JD’s neck, Owen pulled him to his mouth and kissed him soundly. “Not enough.” A growl rumbled deep in JD’s throat as he deepened the kiss, claiming Owen’s mouth for himself, hesitation and restraint forgotten as their tongues slid together. Even with his eyes closed, there was no mistaking JD for a woman. And, goddamn, did Owen like it.

JD pushed Owen backwards, their lips parting for only a moment before JD climbed on top of him and dove in for more.

 

* * *

 

Owen woke the next morning slightly disoriented. He’d shared countless sleeping spaces with all of Sidewinder over the years, so the oddness was not waking to another man. Not even a plane of solid muscle pressed against his back was foreign. You weren’t a true Sidewinder until you’d wound up as Kelly's over-sized teddy bear.

No, what threw him off was JD’s very naked body curled around his own.

JD mumbled something unintelligible and tightened his arms around Owen, the feeling of his hardened cock pressed against Owen’s ass reminding him of everything he’d learned about last night. Like how much fun sex was with someone who was completely his equal, who could give as good as he got and still begged for more. Or how JD seemed to know exactly what he wanted and needed. Or how absolutely intoxicating it was watching JD ride him into oblivion.

One night. Just one night and he’d hopelessly lost it for this man. It was far too soon to name what he felt as love, but there was a definite possibility for that in the future. And to think he’d denied himself this all these years. All the things he’d missed out on, and for what? Fear? Everything he’d ever done as a Marine, and yet he’d been too afraid to let himself feel this much for another man. But maybe it was a blessing in disguise. If things had worked out differently, they might never have met.

“Morning,” JD murmured, voice roughened from sleep. His lips fluttered along the shell of Owen’s ear, following the line of Owen’s neck, the scratch of stubble against tender flesh causing Owen to squirm in his arms. JD strummed his fingers across Owen’s bare stomach. “You doing okay?”

Owen hummed a positive note. Better than okay. In fact, he wouldn’t mind waking like this every morning. “What do you want to do today?”

“You?” JD huffed a laugh. “I didn’t get to teach you _everything_ last night.”

Owen turned toward JD and pressed their noses together. “How about we start with a shower and then I’ll teach you something instead?”

JD hummed as his lips brushed against Owen’s. “I’ll get the water started.”


	5. Chapter 5

Hearing the click of the door opening, Owen rolled over with a groan, wincing as he clutched at his wounded side. He now understood Ty’s aversion to the dreaded v-word.

After nearly six months together, JD had suggested they take a vacation together. It was a great idea as far as Owen was concerned. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone on a legitimate vacation simply to enjoy himself. He had the time but rarely did much with it, preferring to save his vacation days on the off chance he’d need to cash them in when one of his brothers needed help. 

What he hadn’t known at the time was that JD was a magnet for trouble. Not that he tried to be, it just sort of happened.

The first few days had been fantastic and touristy: waking to warm tropical breezes, exploring local markets JD knew by heart, and just enough trekking through rainforests and ruins to work up more than one appetite.

Totally perfect.

Right until they were shot at.

 

Unarmed and unsure of who their assailant was, they’d run. They eventually lost the guy by weaving through the maze of crowded market streets, but not before he took a second shot at them. Instincts kicking in, Owen shoved JD out of the way, getting clipped in the side with the bullet. Just like old times.

JD locked the door and crossed the room, climbing onto the bed next to Owen, brows furrowed with worry. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“It’s been awhile since I last got shot. Kind of like to keep it that way, you know?” Owen answered, his tone more snappish than intended.

JD frowned at him. “You’re pretty grumpy for someone who got laid in spectacular fashion this morning.”

“Yes, and then this happened,” Owen said, waving a hand at his bandaged side. “So really, it’s a draw.”

Resting a hand on Owen’s bare stomach, JD leaned over for a kiss, his tongue parting Owen’s lips with ease. Owen curled a hand around the back of JD’s neck and held JD in place. The dull burn in Owen’s side faded, forgotten as he deepened the kiss. He nipped at JD’s lower lip, earning a soft moan that went straight to his groin. Owen was still in awe of JD, of how this man commanded his complete attention no matter what he did. JD could be sprawled out on the couch reading a book and Owen would stare, wondering how he’d gotten so lucky. No one ever had that effect on him.

“I love you,” Owen murmured between kisses. 

JD hummed and smiled against Owen’s lips. “Love you too.” His hand slid up Owen’s chest, mapping every dip and curve he knew by heart. Despite the near suffocating heat, Owen shivered under JD’s touch. How JD knew exactly what Owen needed in any given moment was beyond him. Times like these, JD’s fingertips brushed over his skin in a gentle caress, soothing and reassuring. Other times those same fingertips dug into his flesh, gripping and bruising. It was those same hands, capable of such tenderness and strength, that Owen had entrusted his heart to. 

Owen finally released JD and smiled back at him, cupping JD’s cheek with his hand. JD leaned into the touch. “Seriously, though,” he said, pressing a kiss to Owen’s palm, “how are you feeling?” JD had found a nearby clinic that patched him up, paying the doctor well enough to keep silent about the whole thing.

“Just sore, nothing to worry about.” Compared to the near-death experiences he’d been through, getting nicked in the side was a minor annoyance. This was a paper cut to him. A large, angry paper cut that was going to put a bit of a damper on his love life for the next few days.

JD’s eyebrows drew together again. “I don’t think we can stay here.” He got up, and Owen watched as he began gathering their scattered belongings into a pile near the suitcases. “That guy who shot at us? Word is he’s apparently working for El Jefe.”

“Should I know who that is?” 

Owen started to push himself up so he could help, but JD waved him off. Instead, he leaned back against the pillows and watched JD sort through their belongings, stuffing clothing back into the cases as he spoke. “I met him a few years ago in Colombia. Hired me to find some artifact for him. Tried to kill me when I took it and sold it off.” JD paused as he seemed to consider his story and then shrugged, turning to flash Owen a lopsided grin. “Guess he’s still mad.” 

Owen lifted an eyebrow. “You think?” he deadpanned. He hoped this wasn’t a recurring theme in JD’s life because he wanted to go on more vacations with him. Assuming they made it out of this one alive first. “So then what do we do? If his guys are crazy enough to open fire on somebody in broad daylight, I doubt we’re safe anywhere.” 

“Out here, no. But it should be safer if we go back to the city. Too many witnesses and Federales there.” JD stopped what he was doing and sat down, propping tanned forearms on his knees. “Or we could just go straight to the airport and go home.” 

The disappointment in JD’s voice tugged at Owen’s heart. They still had four more days and the last thing he wanted was to cut their long-needed vacation short. But he also didn’t want either of them to end up dead. Maybe there was a way to compromise. “What if we went back to the city and keep a low profile while we’re there? First sign that someone might have found us and we leave.” 

“I guess that would be okay.” JD pushed to his feet and walked over to the bed, offering Owen a hand. Owen took the proffered hand and sat up, noting the lines of dismay creasing JD’s face. “I’m sorry, baby,” JD said. “If I’d known–” 

“Exactly.” Owen slid off the bed and wrapped his arms around JD’s waist, ignoring the sharp pain that sliced across his side with the movement. He gritted his teeth against a yelp, and pressed a kiss to JD’s chin. Pale blue eyes met his. “You didn’t know, so there’s nothing to apologize for. Let’s just get out of here and we’ll figure something out later. If not, oh well. We can always go home and find something else to do.”

JD huffed a sigh and pressed their foreheads together. “I know. I just wanted you to see this place like I do and fall in love with it.”

Owen bumped his nose against JD’s. “I already have.” It was difficult not to fall in love with the simple charms of rural Mexico once he slowed down enough to appreciate them. Nothing like the drunken haze that fogged his memories of previous visits. And while a Hilton their current lodging was not, at least it wasn’t a dingy jail cell.

Owen released JD and gave his hip an affectionate swat before walking away to get dressed. “It’ll be an adventure,” he said with a wink. “You like those, right?”


End file.
